


they were shining there for you and me (for liberty)

by in_deepest_blue



Category: Thunderbolt Fantasy 東離劍遊紀 (TV)
Genre: Banter, Bickering, M/M, Title From an ABBA Song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-16 15:47:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29084874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_deepest_blue/pseuds/in_deepest_blue
Summary: As a song goes: "There was something in the air that night, the stars were bright..."Shang Buhuan and Lin Xueya end up in a small village with an interesting tradition on the night of Yuan Xiao Jie, the Lantern Festival.
Relationships: Rin Setsu A | Lǐn Xuě Yā/Sho Fu Kan | Shāng Bù Huàn
Comments: 1
Kudos: 4





	they were shining there for you and me (for liberty)

**Author's Note:**

> Since the world of Thunderbolt Fantasy isn't really parallel to our world, I have taken some liberties with how I depicted the Lantern Festival here. Mainly, I was inspired by the [Pingxi Lantern Festival](https://discovery.cathaypacific.com/story-pingxi-lantern-festival), which you might know as the festival with the floating sky lanterns. It's easily Taiwan's most popular lantern festival — I'm not sure if Disney has confirmed it, but it's highly likely that the floating lanterns of _Tangled_ were inspired by Pingxi's festival. 
> 
> [Yuan Xiao Jie](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lantern_Festival), the Lantern Festival, really is celebrated in Chinese culture on the fifteenth day of the lunar calendar's first month — it usually marks the end of the Lunar New Year celebrations. But to my knowledge, Pingxi aside, other Chinese / Chinese diaspora communities don't celebrate with floating lanterns; you'll just see lanterns being hung around town. [Tangyuan](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Tangyuan_\(food\)), a sweet soup featuring glutinous rice balls with filling (e.g. sesame paste), is commonly eaten during the Lunar New Year festivities (including the Lantern Festival).
> 
> Anyway, if you're up for celebrating Lunar New Year in 2021, it's on February 12th (Friday), while Yuan Xiao Jie / the Lantern Festival is two weeks later, on the 26th!
> 
> Lastly, I'm well-aware that "Shang" and "Lin" are last names — I myself am of Chinese descent, but the fandom just seems to prefer calling both characters by their last names, and even in-series, Lin calls Shang "Sir Shang"; iirc Shang just calls Lin "Lin," as well.

Their travels take them to a remote village nestled deep in a valley. Ordinarily, it is quiet, but tonight, the fifteenth night of the first month, it is aglow as it celebrates the auspicious Lantern Festival. The pitch-black night sky is illuminated by the brightly burning flames of rice-paper lanterns — some of which, hovering in the distance, high above the village, almost look like stars.

Rubbing his temple, Shang Buhuan heaves a sigh. “So much for getting a decent night’s sleep tonight.”

“Now, now, Sir Shang, don’t be such a spoilsport,” Lin Xueya mock-chides him in a sing-song tone. “This is a special occasion and a time-honored tradition, so why don’t we let the locals have their fun?”

Shang sighs again and shrugs. “Spend some time in Xi You and you’ll understand why festivals aren’t my thing. It’s all just bread and circuses. The masses are unhappy because they’re starving and penniless? Just put on a festival to distract them! Joke’s on our Imperial Court: more and more people aren’t buying it.”

The fervor in the Edgeless Blade’s rant becomes more palpable as he continues. “And don’t get me started on all the kickbacks! While the people starve, corrupt businesses’ and officials’ pockets get fatter with each festival they throw.”

“Hmm,” Lin pauses thoughtfully. “That doesn’t look like the case here, though. It seems like a celebration that the villagers came up with themselves.” 

With Shang in tow, the silver-haired Enigmatic Gale strolls around, occasionally making chit-chat with the villagers. They learn the stories behind this village’s unique way of celebrating the Lantern Festival. 

Other towns would normally be adorned with hanging paper lanterns, as children played with handheld ones. But here, apparently, they set off huge floating lanterns to hark back to the days when demons and bandits ransacked their village. Sky lanterns were the fastest way to let those in hiding know that it was safe to return.

As Shang orders a piping-hot bowl of _tangyuan_ soup, Lin heads for another stall. A little later, Shang is seated and eagerly digging into the sweet, colorful soup when Lin rejoins him, brandishing a lantern.

“Why don’t we do as the locals do, Sir Shang? They do say,” he begins, a playful twinkle in his eye, “that now is one of the best times to make a wish. So many of the youths here are hopeful that the matchmaking gods are listening tonight.

“You know I don’t believe in that sort of thing.” 

“Neither do I, my friend,” Lin chuckles.

Shang rolls his eyes. “Then why bother?” 

“Tsk. Not a single sentimental bone in your body, I see. I just thought it’d be fun.”

“Look, if I wanted to be all poetic and sentimental, I’d have studied to become a scholar. I don’t exactly have the luxury of time to sit down and smell the flowers.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything. We are literally sitting down right this very moment, and are in no rush to head to our next destination, so why not humor me here?”

“When do I _not_ humor you? I always end up doing just that.”

“Come on; just help me think of a wish already,” Lin pouts.

“You’re the one who’s into all that literary stuff and speaking in metaphors,” Shang grumbles. “Surely you’re much better at coming up with some nice-sounding wishes. I just want to eat in peace.” He scoops a perfectly round ball of glutinous rice and sesame paste, and eats contentedly.

Lin huffs. “You really are no fun, Sir Shang. I’m just asking you to think of a wish, not to compose poetry. I’m sure I could think of one myself, but wouldn’t it be great to come up with something together? I’m not one to believe in superstition, but I reckon the gods are more likely to listen when multiple people come together to make themselves heard.”

“Fine, fine, if it makes you happy. May lasting peace befall Dong Li, Xi You, and all the far-off lands we haven’t heard of. Now will you just let me finish eating?”

“Spoken like an ambassador for world peace,” Lin says with a smile, as he inscribes the wish. “One last thing, before I leave you to enjoy your little nighttime snack — sign the lantern right here, why don’t you? Obviously, you don’t have to use your real name.”

After Shang drinks up the last of the soup, and Lin has finished signing the lantern with an alias, they set off the lantern. It slowly ascends to join the other lanterns in midair; then, as the wind carries it off farther and farther into the distance, it fades from their sight until it looks nothing more like a twinkling star.

The next morning, their senses not dulled by the previous night’s drinking and merrymaking, Shang and Lin hike through the woods with some villagers to help retrieve as many burnt-out lanterns as they can find. They keep stumbling upon the blasted things, scattered through mountain trails and floating down rivers — looking much like shriveled-up flowers.

“See,” Shang grouses, as he picks up yet another lantern, “I told you, festivals are more trouble than they’re worth.”

Lin holds back a laugh. “Really now, Sir Shang. You must be fun at parties.”

The task takes up their entire day, but in return, Shang and Lin are well-compensated for their efforts. They’re also offered another night’s stay for free, which they don’t pass up on. 

Dusk approaches, blanketing the village in darkness, save for some flickering torchlights and lanterns — a stark contrast from the previous night. Hours after Shang and Lin have dinner, the sleepy village is practically pitch-black, the lights having mostly faded. 

Stealthily slipping out of his room to avoid waking other guests, Shang beckons for Lin to join him; the Enigmatic Gale unquestioningly follows.

Outside, in the inn’s garden, Shang unceremoniously plops down on the grass. “Let me show you my favorite view,” he says, pointing to the heavens dotted with stars. “Now this beats last night’s lanterns, hands down.”

Lin sits down next to him. “My, my, Sir Shang. Just last night, you established that you weren’t prone to sentimentality.

“I’m not,” Shang maintains. “Do you know what it means when you can see the stars like this?”

“Are you about to surprise me by springing me with some legend from Xi You?”

“Just shut up for a second and let me get on with it, will ya? As I was saying, you can’t see the stars when there are bright lights in the way. You can’t enjoy the stars in peace when there’s a ruckus going on. And in Xi You, there are plenty of villages where you can’t quietly stargaze like this. Why? Soldiers or insurrectionists or whoever, setting fire to villages. Signal flares from this town or that. Billowing smoke. Screams for help.”

Lin is silent, engrossed in Shang’s words.

“Dong Li is lucky — this country still has little pockets of serenity like this town, where all is calm, and you can clearly see the night sky. I’m a simple man; I guess the stars aren’t all that special, really. I can’t quite describe them the way a poet would, and I honestly can’t be bothered to learn all the legends about them, but that’s what they mean to me.” Shang shrugs. “I long for the day when the people of Xi You are unburdened enough to be able to gaze up at the night sky.”

“Perhaps one day, we can watch the stars together in Xi You. You’ll have to take me to the best vantage point, of course.”

Obtuse as ever, Shang responds, “Well, maybe that day would come sooner if you’d just help make my life easier instead of dragging me into all your crazy schemes.”

“You truly are a mood killer, Sir Shang, you know that?”


End file.
